


Walk on Water

by Ameiko



Category: Hunger Games Series - All Media Types, Hunger Games Trilogy - Suzanne Collins
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-14
Updated: 2013-03-14
Packaged: 2017-12-04 22:52:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,489
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/715994
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ameiko/pseuds/Ameiko
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>While talking to her son and soon-to-be daughter-in-law, Annie recalls a special moment from her past.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Walk on Water

**Author's Note:**

  * For [sabaceanbabe](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sabaceanbabe/gifts).



They say that time mends all wounds. It's a lie much prettier than the truth, and one that I used to believe. After thirty-five years, I can say that my wounds have not healed, only festered beneath my skin. I feel Finnick's death more now than I ever could have imagined back then. The pain lives in the little things—the space in my bed that was never filled again, the birthdays spent alone, the fears that went unsoothed. Mostly though, the pain lives in the moments when I see my love looking back at me through the eyes of our son. Jaimie's deep green eyes stare into mine with such a look of concern that it nearly rips me apart.

“Mom, did you hear me?” he asks softly. There is a tenderness to his voice that was learned through years of dealing with my spells and moods. He learned earlier than any child should have how to talk to his poor, insane mother.

I nod, unable to find the words that he wants me to say.

Jaimie sits back down on the sofa next to the girl—I can't quite remember her name right now. Something with beginning with an “R.” He holds her hand, and she forces a smile. She's such a pretty girl. Finnick would have liked her, I think.

“And we'll get married right here, if that's all right with you,” he says, continuing on with a conversation that I haven't been listening to. “We want a simple wedding. No need for anything fancy.”

“My parents will be here in a few days,” the girl chimes in. “My mother's bringing her wedding dress with her.”

A memory takes hold of me, and I can't force it away. I look to my husband and ask, “Finnick, do you remember the dress I wore to Ada's wedding?”

He looks back at me with his green eyes and smiles sadly. “I don't. Why don't you remind me?”

I frown. How could he forget the day we met? Suddenly, I don't feel very much like talking at all, but the memory still comes.

It was my sister's wedding day. After nearly four years of dating, my oldest sister, Ada, was marrying her sweetheart. Ezra was the only son of a ship captain who even owned his very own boat. The best part was that, even more important than having a secure future, Ezra truly did love my sister. He treated her like a princess. I don't think my parents could have been any happier with the match. It truly was a day to celebrate.

I remember how pretty I felt in my blue dress. My mother and sister had helped me weave blue and green ribbons into my hair, and Allie had even gone as far as allowing me to wear some of the makeup that she had been hoarding for special occasions. It was the first time in my life that I saw a young woman standing in the mirror before me rather than a little girl. At fifteen, I was still somewhat scrawny, but I was beginning to finally gain the curves that the other girls had. It was the first time I truly believed it when my mother told me that I looked beautiful.

Weddings in our district were always joyous occasions even when they weren't extravagant. Unlike the feasts on Reaping Days or at the Harvest, there was no darkness lurking behind us. We were celebrating living rather than just surviving by the grace of the Capitol. Weddings gave us hope for the future. I suppose it really was no wonder that whenever a wedding was announced, everyone for miles around showed up bearing some kind of gift or dish and wearing the very best clothes they owned. My sister's wedding was no different. There were many people that I knew and hundreds—or so it seemed—more that I didn't, standing along the beach as my sister was joined to the man she loved.

As was customary, my family and I stood off to the side a few feet to show that Ada was moving on to a new life away from our home. My mother and Allie both wept by my side while my father stood silently behind us. I didn't cry that day. Instead, I just watched quietly and perhaps a bit enviously as the net was placed over the pair.

I had never seen Ada look so beautiful before. Like me, she was slender and pale with long auburn hair and a face that was too ordinary to be more than just pretty, but the white dress and blue lace had transformed her into someone else entirely. Her eyes sparkled and her cheeks bloomed. Lips that had always seemed a bit on the thin side were now full and red. It was like I was seeing my sister for the first time. Not the plain daughter of a cannery worker, but an ethereal creature as beautiful as a mermaid. Beside her stood her dashing pirate with windblown hair and a smile that could steal a thousand hearts. I no longer saw him as the lanky, acne-scarred young man I had known my whole life. It's amazing what love and a perfect day can do to a person. I began to imagine what my own wedding day would be like.

I must have been smiling like a fool lost in my own little world, because suddenly I felt the keen prickling sensation that you get when you’re being watched. My gaze scanned the crowd, but I couldn't see a single person whose eyes were on me rather than my sister. Shrugging off the feeling, I stopped my daydreaming and joined the rest of the guests who were just starting the party that would last through the night until dawn's light touched the waters.

The dancing began before we were even finished filling the buffet tables with all of the treats the guests had brought. It seemed the musicians were too anxious to wait before bursting out into song. A small dance floor and makeshift stage had been put together right on the sand. The younger guests crowded onto the floor, laughing and flirting while the older couples formed groups around the tables and reminisced about the weddings they had attended in years past. I caught a bit of a particularly raunchy tale as I passed by, carrying a tray full of broiled shrimp. Blushing, I hurried back to the table holding all of the food.

“Annie, you should be dancing with the others,” my mother chided softly as she arranged yet another tray.

I lowered my gaze and toyed with the edge of the tablecloth. I was too embarrassed to admit that I was afraid that no one would ask me to dance. “There is so much to do still.”

“Let old women like me take care of it,” she said with a laugh. “Go. Enjoy yourself. This night is as much for girls like you as it is for Ada. Dance and eat. Be happy.”

“I am happy,” I replied honestly.

Sighing, my mother shooed me off toward the crowd.

Thankfully, someone did ask me to dance. I danced with a few of my classmates and even some of the older boys from Allie's class. With my fears dissolved, it was so very easy to get lost in the moment. Joy surrounded me like the tide coming into the shore. I laughed and danced until it felt like I would fall over if I didn't stop. One of the boys that I had danced with offered to take me to a secluded cove where we could relax, but I saw through the offer for what it was and declined. I made my way back to the buffet table where a bowl of punch had been put out.

As I poured myself a cup, I once again felt like I was being watched. This time, however, my eyes strained into the falling evening to find the culprit. On the crest of one of the dunes, I spotted a darkened figure sitting alone.

I frowned and began putting together two plates. It wasn't uncommon for people to avoid coming to a wedding simply because they had no gift, nor the means to bring a dish. Our district wasn't as poor as some of the others were rumored to be, but that didn't mean that everyone was prosperous. People in my district starved the same as they did elsewhere. Though my family was not rich, we had more than enough on that day. Why should anyone be left out? Whoever the stranger on the dune was, I was going to make sure that he didn't leave hungry. It was the least I could do.

The person on the hill didn't bolt when I approached, even though I was half expecting him to. In the dim light, I could finally make out who had been watching me all day. I recognized him almost instantly—how could I not? Finnick Odair had become almost a living legend before he was even old enough to shave. I had never seen him up close before in person, but he was every bit as handsome in real life as he had been in the broadcasts. I felt myself blush right up from my toes as he turned those brilliant green eyes on me.

“So I've been caught,” he murmured softly.

“I brought you some dinner,” I said, somehow managing not to stammer. The plate that had looked like a feast fit for a king only seconds before now looked like a meal only a pauper would enjoy. Finnick accepted the food with a smile, and patted the ground beside him. I sat down almost without thinking.

“This is wonderful. Thank you,” he said before tearing off a piece of bread.

“I'm sure it's not nearly as nice as what they feed you in the Capitol,” I blurted out, only to wince at how stupid a thing it was to say.

He stared at me for a moment. At seventeen, he was only two years older than I was, but there was a maturity to his eyes that I'd never seen before. “I like this better,” he told me, with a forced smile. “The company's certainly nicer.”

Even as young as I was, I had heard the rumors about him. They said that Finnick took his first lover on the Victory Tour stop in the Captiol, and had been through at least a dozen since then. He charmed both men and women alike with his silver tongue and golden looks. Once he was done with them, he left a trail of broken hearts behind him and never looked back. I had heard the stories about him so often that it was almost impossible not to wonder if they were true. Still, he didn't look like a heart breaker to me, not sitting alone on the dune.

“My name is Annie Cresta,” I offered.

“I know who you are. You look just like your sister... only prettier,” he admitted almost shyly.

“You do? How did you know?”

“I like it out here,” he said cryptically. He shoved a shrimp into his mouth and chewed slowly. It was like he didn't want to answer my question, but didn't want me to leave either.

“Are you sure you wouldn't like it better down there with everyone else?” I asked with a sigh.

“Positive.” His eyes met mine, and I felt my heart flutter just a bit. “I'd have to share you if we were down there.”

“I don't know how you can like me so much. We've only just met,” I said irritably.

“I just happen to be an excellent judge of character,” he quipped. There was an edge to his words that stung. It was like he was mocking me, but not really. The one he was really finding fault in was himself, but that didn't quite make sense either.

“So, are you too sophisticated to come to a common wedding?”

Finnick shook his head. “Don't be mad at me. I should be down there and I want to be there, but I just can't. It wouldn't be fair.”

An idea clicked in my head and suddenly I knew why he was up there to begin with. “You're as much a celebrity here as you are in the Capitol. You didn't want anyone to make a scene,” I said sadly.

“Ezra really loves your sister,” he stated, changing the subject. “He's my cousin. When we were kids, we were pretty close, but I haven't talked to him much since...” His voice trailed off, but I don't need him to finish the thought because I already know what he's talking about.

“So Ezra told you about me, too?” I asked.

“Sweet, little Annie stories were always my favorite ones,” he said with a wink.

I folded my arms over my chest petulantly. “I'm not little or even all that sweet.”

“No,” he argued, smiling wolfishly. “You aren't little, but you are sweet. If you weren't, you would have left me up here alone.”

“Maybe I should leave you up here alone.” There was a warning feeling prickling at the back of my neck. It was telling me to run away. If I didn't, I knew that I would fall for him just like all of his Capitol lovers had. I stood up to do what my instincts told me.

“Please, don't go,” he begged, stopping me in my tracks. There was something about him that looked so very lonely that it made my heart ache.

“All right,” I agreed. I sat back down on the sand.

We watched the dancers carrying on into the night. Torches were lit, creating a halo around the scene below us. The wedding was almost like its own little world. There were no cares for anyone down there at that very moment. Everyone looked so happy that I didn't wonder whether or not they noticed that I was gone. There was a peace surrounding all of them.

“I want my wedding day to be just like this,” I said wistfully.

Finnick nodded. “I'm sure it will be. Except you'll be the most beautiful bride the district has ever seen. Your husband will cherish you more than anyone ever has before,” he predicted.

“And what about your wedding day?” I asked, smiling. “I bet that you'll be the best husband in all of Panem.”

“I doubt that,” he scoffed with a bitter laugh.

“Why?”

“I'm not going to marry,” he replied firmly. “Not ever.”

“You can't mean that!” I cried.

He pushed a lock of golden hair from his eyes. His gaze had turned to ice and his voice was much colder. “I don't see why you should care.”

“I don't!” I snapped.

This time there was no stopping me. I moved to storm off, but he caught my hand and pulled me into him. My chest collided with his, and I swear that I could feel his heartbeat against mine. He smelled like the ocean and something else that I couldn't quite define just then. Beneath his touch, my skin felt so very alive. It was like I was suddenly aware of every little nerve inside my body. I knew that I should pull away or at least try to put up a fight, but my body couldn't seem to muster up the will to do so. All I could do was stand there in his arms and stare up at him, alternately hoping he would kiss me and fearing it all at once.

To be honest, I'm not entirely certain that I didn't initiate the kiss. I can't remember the precise moment when one of us moved, but oh, when we did! Finnick's lips touching mine was a feeling that I can't quite describe. His kiss wasn't at all what I had expected from a man reported to have had so many lovers. He was gentle and almost a little shy, but there was something about the kiss that lit a fire deep within me and left me breathless. His kiss made me feel like I could walk on water and dance on air. I leaned in for more, but he pulled back.

“Sweet Annie,” he murmured. “If anyone could change my mind about love and marriage it would be you, and I just can't let that happen.”

I wanted to argue with him, yet the words just weren't there. I simply stood there and watched him walk away until his form was no more than a speck along the shoreline. Right then and there, I made myself a promise that the next time I saw him I would convince him that he shouldn't give up on love.

I didn't see Finnick again until the next Reaping Day when I found myself standing on the stage before all of Panem as a tribute.

“Mom, you don't have to come if it will be too much for you.”

My son's voice finally penetrates the fog surrounding me, and I blink away the tears that have formed. “No,” I say weakly. “It won't be too much.”

“Why don't we make that decision once the day comes?” my future daughter-in-law suggests.

For the first time, I really look at the girl Jaimie wants to marry. There is something about her that is startlingly familiar. With her dark hair and blue eyes, she is quite striking in her own way. And then I realize who she is. Her name is Rena.

“You're Katniss and Peeta's daughter,” I whisper.

She nods. “I suppose Jaimie should have mentioned it sooner.”

“He probably did,” I admit with a heavy sigh. “I don't always remember things. But what are your parents saying about all of this? You're very young to be getting married.”

“Twenty-one isn't so young,” she tells me defiantly. Oh, yes, she is certainly Katniss' daughter.

“Perhaps not,” I reply, shaking my head.

For the next hour or so, I do a very good job of staying focused. I ask all of the appropriate questions and give the correct answers. I even manage to keep myself from getting lost in the memories. It's a good day, and I can tell that Jaimie is pleased. I've let him down so many times that the least I can do is try to have a few sane moments while we discuss his wedding day. I'm feeling so good about everything that I almost forget one very important detail.

As Jaimie and Rena get ready to go, I suddenly remember and go running down the hall in a panic. The thought of them leaving before I give it to them is enough to make me tremble. I tear open my closet door and frantically start tossing things out. I can hear my son's pleas for me to stop, but I ignore them. This is too important for me to stop. Finally, I find what I am looking for and sink back onto my heels.

“You can't get married without this,” I tell him breathlessly as he wraps his arms around me.

“What is it?” he asks, suspiciously. I can't say I blame him for his mistrust. There have been so many failures over the years, but he needs what's in this box.

“Open it with Rena,” I tell him.

He does as I ask once we settle back into the living room. At first, I'm not sure he even understands what he's looking at. It's a dated custom these days—one that I'm not sure too many young couples in our district follow anymore. My son knows what it is, though. He swallows hard, and lifts an edge of the net from the box.

“A net?” Rena asks.

“The newlywed couple is traditionally covered by a net in our district,” Jaimie explains. He looks to me with uncertainty in his eyes. “Is this the one from your wedding?”

I nod. “Your father made it. I think we should both be there for your wedding.”

It turns out that their wedding day is a good day. I feel tethered to reality in a way that I rarely have since the Games all of those years ago. When I watch my son throughout the ceremony, I see him and not his father. He is my beautiful boy—a gift created from our love. Looking at him reminds me that I did, in fact, change Finnick's mind about marriage, and I am so very thankful that I did. As the net is placed over the happy couple, I know in my heart that they will have many joyful years ahead of them. That knowledge warms my heart, and I think maybe just for a bit, I feel a healing balm on my soul.

Time does not heal wounds; love does.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you to sabaceanbabe for the prompt - I hope you enjoyed this! Thanks also to my awesome beta C for all of her hard work.


End file.
